St. Paul daily globe., 1887-08-21

the cold winter wind would cause his
his wet clothes to stick to his body.
In the distance the glasswOrks still
burned, sending up great tongues of fire
to the sky, across which great spires of
smoke cOursed along with the clouds.
Peter stopped at the first house of the
village. and, kicking at the doors, called
for assistance.
The streets were deserted; many per-
sons had fed that morning after fray
in which about twenty men had been
either killed or wounded. Those who
remained had barricaded their doors
and pretended not to hear.
The miserable man was bitterly weep
ing; he seemed to hear the death-rattle
in the throat of his brother, who was
still losing a great deal of blood. Just
as Peter felt his strength giving way ,on
turning corner, he saw a gOOd-SiZed
building, through the half-opened door
of which a dim light was streaming.
He entered it.
1t was large unfinished and unfur-
| nished school-roOm, with whitewashed
| walls reeking with dampness. All the
killed and wounded in the mornings
| fray had been taken there pell nell.
About twenty human bodies were
stretched out ON pallet of straw. All
| the faces seemed so CHASTITY under the
dim light of the two cOal-Oil lamps that
! it was hard to distinguish the dead from
| the dying.
| A physician and two Sisters of Charity
were going and coming, dressing the
wounds and reviving the spirits of the
i wounded with words of comfort.
| They hurried to the wounded man
brought in by Peter. fixing place fOI
! him on the straw. AS one of the sisters
had brought lamp, the childish face of
/ poor John seemed livid. His dull eyes
were half closed, and his lips were cOv-
cred with blood-fecked foam.
| The doctor ripped his coat and shirt,
exposing his fair, white skin to view.
The shape of his body seemed SO
| youthful, so delicate, that it was pain
| full to see him thus uncovered, gaping
wound in his side.
At first Peter had drawn near, holding
his breath, his eyes wandering from the
wounded man to the doctor, scanning
| the latter's face as if he wished to read
| there, in advance, the decision about to
| be pronounced. But when, by means
of the dim lamplight, the miserable man
perceived the bruised flesh of his brother,
he gave moaning cry and dropped to
| the floor, sobbing in the most heartrend-
ing manner. A word from the doctor
nearly craZed him:
"The wound in the leg is nothing
said he; "tis simply a fracture; but
the wound in the side is very danger
OuS."
So, perhaps, his brother was going to
die, and it would be he that had killed
him. ie1..l
He sprang to his feet, eXclaiming
'.'Tis not true, is it? 1t is not possible
| that l."
He stopped short, terrified. Not that
he feared being arrested if he betrayed
| himself. God knows he cared but little
for that! What he objected to was to
| be taken away, to be separated from his
brother, and that others should be at his
side while he would be far, far away.
He SmOthered the avOwal that SchOrched
his very lips, so deepseated was the hor-
rOr with which he looked upon himself,
fand when they questioned him he found
courage enough to lie.
He said he had found his brother
lying wounded by the roadside and had
he knew about it. And as the doctor
looked at him he sat down and hid his
face in his hands, fearing that his crime
would be discovered in his eyes.
John became more quiet. He had not
| recovered consciousness, but, as he no
longer moaned, the dressing of his
wound had doubtless afforded him re-
lief.
The physician and the sisters with
drew, going to other sufferers, leaving
John alone at the side of his brother.
He had seated himself on the straw,
watching the least movement, catching
the feeblest sigh,, awaiting with untold
agony the first symptoms of returning
life.
From time to time he would lean over,
clasping his rough hands together as he
had not done for many day, muttering
fragments of prayer that ne had long
T thought forgotten, and, when words
failed him, when he no longer knew
what to say, he would exclaim: 80
brother, brother, say that you forgive
mew 11t.-
Since a little while John has been
getting restless. He seemed to be try
ing to get up. His features became
contracted, as if he were making Strenu
Gus efforts, and he murmured words the
meaning of which his brother valnly
tried to understand. The frightened
workman called the doctor, who knit his
brows as he passed his arms around the
wounded man and gently raised him up.
This afforded slight relief, but soon
the choking returned.
The physician shrugged his shoulders
in way that plainly intimated that
there was no more hope. One of the
sisters knelt down and prayed in low
tone.
All at once the poor soldier, utteringa
hoarse cry, shuddered convulsively. His
eyes became glazed. He was dead.
Peter felt that he was losing his
senses. He could not believe that all
was over. He lay down at his brothers
side, drawing nearer and nearer, and
with fixed look and trembling lips he
still murmured mechanically:
''John, say that you fOsgive me-"
Then, as the doctor attempted to
spread a blanket over the body, the
workman stopped him, and, raising
his chead, he said, in voice that had
nothing human in it, "Let him be.
He is my brother. you know,
and it was | who killed him."
He is delirious,' murmured the
sister.
Peter added softly:
Eyes, twas l. You may believe me,
and send for the gen d'armes. Now
that he is dead l don't mind being taken
away. Go ahead. l shall await them
here"